Fairy Tale Ending
by Vengeful
Summary: Fate had never meant for her life to be pleasant, or even acceptable. A different take on an old cliche. Hermione. Draco. One semi forced marriage. DHr, sort of.


**A/N: So, I started this story a few years back, when I was at the height of my Harry Potter phase. I haven't really been as much into the whole Potter fiction scene as of late, but I was cleaning up when I recently came upon a hard copy of this story. Back when I wrote it, my computer had crashed, and I was forced to retype it from my hard copy. Needless to say, it was riddled with errors. Well, I reread it, and decided to see if I could clean it up a bit. It is just as well that I didn't post it all those years ago; the grammar was abysmal, to say the least. Thankfully, I have since learned the finer points, albeit a bit late in life,**

**I will admit that I usually would not post this, but, as I did spend a good deal of time on it, and it is rather long, I suppose I should give it a go. I hope to say that this is unlike the typical DHr forced marriage story, the fact that it is a one-shot being just one of them. I haven't had this beta'd, though I have tried to fix all grammatical errors. I also have not made too many text changes simply because my style of writing has dramatically changed since I wrote this story, and I believe that it would be quite obvious were I to go about adding things here and there (although I will admit that in some parts, I couldn't help myself).**

**So, thus ends my epic authors note. I do hope you may find this enjoyable, if not slightly different. Please, leave a review, even if it is to tell me how terrible I am (and again, I stress to you the fact that I wrote this over a year and a half ago. Keep in mind that I have changed).**

**Emily**

**The following story is not compatible with the seventh book. It was written long before that book ever came about.**

**Disclaimer: If there is any doubt of ownership in someone's mind, that person really ought to find themselves a nice padded room**.

* * *

The woman sat at the small vanity table, a silver brush clutched in her hand. Almost robotically, she swept through the mass of curls that framed her face. With flat eyes, she studied the reflection, and, not for the first time, realized just how much of a stranger the woman staring back at her was. Face too thin, eyes flat, mouth pulled into a tight frown, the image was a ghost of its former self; an image, likely, she felt, to fade away at any given moment.

A soft knock on the door tore her attention away from her reflection. "Come in," she said. The door opened and a young woman crept in. It was Rachelle, one of the maids of the manor.

"Mister Malfoy requests that you dine with him and his guests tonight. He asks that you meet him in the main hall in an hour."

"Very well."

"He also asks that you wear your dress robes. I will be back in half an hour to assist you with your hair."

"Will my children be present?" asked the brunette. The maid shook her head.

"No Ma'am. They will be dining separately."

"Thank you. Please alert my…husband that I will be down in an hours' time."

The maid nodded once more and scurried out of the room. Hermione turned back to her closet, opening it to reveal a large selection of dress robes. Her hand brushed the fine pieces, pausing at one and removing it from its hanger.

The robe in question was dark scarlet, with gold trimming on the square neck. The long sleeves reached slightly past her hands, widening as they went down her arm. The bodice of the robe was cut to give the impression of curves that she knew that she didn't possess, and the bottom billowed out. It was a robe that once had made Hermione feel like a medieval princess. At one point in her life, she had worn the dress proudly, displaying the Gryffindor colors with pride, showing everyone that she could not be silenced.

But that was then, before everything changed. That was before she had been forced into marriage, before she had realized the extent of her friends' loyalty to her. Now as she looked at the gold and scarlet, she felt only pain and anger. She threw the garment into the corner, for it was yet another reminder of a world she had long since left behind. With a sigh, she picked out another robe, this one a midnight blue, made of fine silk. Its design, while not as exquisite as the one that lay in a heap on the plush carpeting, was still beautifully designed, fitting her thin body well.

She had barely finished putting on the robe when the maid came back. The young woman's eyes fell to the crumpled robe that lay on the floor. "Would you like me to put this back?"

Hermione shook her head. "Please…take it. I no longer care to wear it. You may wear it yourself, or give it away. It makes no difference to me."

The girl smiled gratefully, picking up the robe and folding it neatly. "Mr. Malfoy would like for me to do your hair and makeup."

Hermione obediently sat down, handing the girl a brush. "Do you know who the visitors are?" she asked as the maid started applying a collection of potions made to tame her bushy hair.

"No, ma'am."

Hermione remained quiet for the rest of the time, staring once more at the face in the mirror. When the girl had finished, Hermione's makeup was flawless, her hair swept up with two long tendrils falling down around her face. Slowly, Hermione left the room, making her way down the long hallways of Malfoy Manor. She paused at one room, opening the door. Two young children peered at her as she entered. Her four-year-old daughter, Halley, dropped the toy she had been playing with and ran towards her Mother.

"Mummy!" she cried out, hugging her mother tightly. Hermione ran her fingers through the sleek brunette hair and kneeled down to meet the girls gray eyes. Another small child met her on the floor. It was her three-year-old son, Alex. Alex was a spitting image of his father. He had his gray eyes and white-blonde hair. But thus far, looks were the only thing that he shared with his father. While Draco was cruel and cold, Alex was a happy child, and he always seemed to wear a smile. Hermione swept both of the children into a tight embrace.

"Mummy must go down and dine with your father tonight, alone. You two be good," she whispered. Halley pouted.

"But Mum, I wanted to go see the horses!" she whined.

"We will see them tomorrow morning, I promise." She straightened herself after giving each child a final kiss on the cheek. "Good night," she called as she rushed down to the great room.

Draco was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, and from the dark scowl on his face, Hermione guessed that she was late.

"You're late," he growled, confirming what she knew to be true.

"I was saying goodnight to my children. You should try seeing them sometime…it wouldn't hurt for them to see their father once in a while."

He glared at her but chose not to respond to her comment.

"Who are our dinner guests?" she asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"Oh, that is for me to know and you to find out," he drawled. "But I do believe that you will enjoy this company." He held out an arm to her. "Shall we?"

She refused to take his arm, instead choosing to walk beside him. They entered the great dining room, where three people awaited them. Shock overcame Hermione as she was greeted with the familiar sight of two red heads and one black haired man.

"Mr. and Mrs. Potter, Mr. Weasley. I do believe that you know my wife?"

"We do," whispered Harry, his eyes glued to his former friend. Hermione, though well aware of the three sets of eyes trained on her, refused to meet their eyes as she took her place at the table next to Draco.

"How are you all today?" continued Draco, pleased with the obvious tension that was settling in the room. "Ron, how is your wife?" he turned to Ron, addressing him with a friendly smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Fine," the man replied, looking away from Hermione's flat gaze.

"Where is she tonight? I do believe that I invited her," Draco asked. Ron looked down at his lap.

"Lavender is very pregnant and not feeling well. We thought it best for her if she just stayed home," he mumbled.

"Congratulations. Is this your first child?"

"Yes. We are very excited." Ron, try as he might, was unable to keep the note of pride from his voice.

"And Harry. Do you and Ginny have children?"

"Yes. We have a son," Ginny answered.

"Children are a wonderful thing, are they not? We have two. But I am sure you are well aware of that, as I know you must keep in touch with my wife."

"We have not spoken in years," Hermione answered shortly, cutting off any further conversation pertaining to the lives of her former friends. "Now, I do believe that there was business to discuss?"

"Of course. I suppose we should get down to business." In an instant, Draco's tone changed from the overly friendly voice that he had been using when the couple first sat down to a more professional voice. "As you know, I brought you here to discuss my contribution to your Quidditch team. As the representatives of the team, I though it best that you two come."

It was at this time that Hermione allowed herself to stop listening, instead letting her mind drift back five years.

It was about a year after the final battle had been won, and she was just getting her life back on track. She had not been seeing anyone for sometime, not that she felt that she had to. Right before the war, she had dated Ron, but with the battle looming up ahead, the relationship was strained. When the time to fight was finally upon them, their already fragile relationship had been unable to stand up to the terrors that they faced, and they ended it. She was now about twenty-one, living comfortably in her small flat. She had a job at the ministry, and though it wasn't high paying, she figured that she would be promoted soon enough, and would then have more money. It was about noon when she heard a knock on the door. She opened it to fine two solemn looking men.

"Miss Hermione Granger?"

"Yes?"

"I am Jonathan Trovels, and this is Alexander Versor. We are from the Ministry."

Hermione wrinkled her brows in confusion. "May I ask why there are two Ministry Officials asking for me?"

The men exchanged uncomfortable glances. "May we talk about this inside? You might want to be sitting down."

Hermione nodded, opening the door wider to allow the two men inside. "Okay, so what is this about?"

"Miss Granger, have you heard of a law, when roughly translated, is called 'Commoners marriage?'" asked Jonathan. Hermione thought for a moment.

" I believe that I learned something about from a book I read. Something about forced marriages…"

Alexander nodded. "What it is, Miss Granger is a law that was created in the early twentieth century. There was a genetic disease going around at that time, one that affected only purebloods. The cause, as you probably know, was the fact that many purebloods were marrying relatives, thus passing on this disease to offspring. At that time, purebloods were favored over those who were muggle born or half blooded, and the ministry was frantic to come up with something to help the pureblood families. So, they came up with the law. It stated that, in a time of trouble, a pureblood, if they find that their risk of not producing offspring is high, can forcibly arrange a marriage with a muggle born."

"And what does that have to do with me? I mean, wasn't it abolished years ago?"

Alexander shifted in his seat. "As you are also probably aware of, years ago there were a number of reforms that changed many of the laws favoring purebloods. Unfortunately, there were issues and this particular law ended up being skipped over."

"Meaning that it is still legal," finished Hermione. She tried to steady her breathing, though it was difficult when she knew what the two men were going to tell her.

"Yes. It was forgotten, unbeknownst to anyone of course. However, recently, Draco Malfoy came across the law. He argued that after the whole business with He Who Must Not Be Named, it could technically be said that the law can be enacted, as it was never specified under what circumstances the law could be applied." Jonathan waited a minute, letting the girl digest all that he had just told her. "Mr. Malfoy wants you, Miss. Granger, to marry him."

Her face paled considerably as the reality of it all hit her. "Please tell me this is a joke. Did Harry and Ron put you up to it?" Her heart rate increased as the men shook their heads.

"I am afraid not Miss. Granger."

"But they can't make me! They can't force me to marry him. That is impossible!" she insisted.

"I'm afraid that legally, he can, seeing as you are not in a serious relationship," Alexander calmly explained.

"But…but the ministry must be aware of the nature of this law! They must know that it is unjust and they should be able to stop it. Right?"

The men once again exchanged uneasy glances. "There are…extenuating circumstances surrounding all of this. You must understand that after this whole business, the gap between purebloods and those who were muggle born is quite large. The whole wizarding community is quite, ah, at odds with one another. The ministry feels that this union would be a great help," Alexander replied.

"What?" She stared at them incredulously. "How…why…what?"

Jonathan sighed. "The thing is, Miss Granger, the nature of the union is one that they have been seeking out for some time. The Malfoy name was ruined in the war, despite Draco Malfoy's accomplishments for our side. The ministry would like to form a public bond between the pureblooded families and the muggle borns, to prove that they have indeed come together in a truce. Seeing as you were one of the best known people in the war, it would be…beneficial for you to be the one to prove that the truce between purebloods and muggle born witches in true."

Hermione leaned back against the couch, running a hand through her messy hair. "Why does he want to marry me? Malfoy, that is. He hates me. For what reason could he possibly have for wanting to marry me?"

"Mr. Malfoy thought you would ask that. He would like to meet you for lunch tomorrow, at the Parchment Café. He has made reservations for noon."

Hermione vaguely recognized the name of the café. It was a well-known restaurant, though few could afford the extravagant prices. It was known to be a magnificent place, with the main diners usually being prominent pureblooded families.

"I see," was all she could manage to get out.

"He will expect you to be there. Please, try to be on time; Mr. Malfoy does not like to delayed." Jonathan glanced up at the clock that hung on her wall.

"Now, I am sorry but we must be going. We have drawn up a packet for you to read, to lean about what you will be expected to do. Good day, Miss Granger." With those parting words, the two men let themselves out, leaving Hermione shaking on the couch. With trembling hands, she picked up the packet, flipping it open.

If possible, what she read horrified her even more. She was to produce and heir with her husband, a male heir. She would be bound to her husband forever as well. Not bothering to fix her appearance she flung the packet on the ground and apparated to The Burrow.

"Oh, Merlin, Harry, Ron. Oh…" was all she could manage as she burst into the kitchen. The two looked at her. As they listened, she talked, telling them all that had gone on in her home.

"So you have to marry Malfoy," Harry started as soon as she had finished her tale.

"And give him kids," finished Ron. Hermione nodded.

"So what are we going to do? He wants me to meet him tomorrow for lunch, to explain why he feels so inclined as to ruin my life."

Both boys looked at her, taken aback by her words. "What about talking to the ministry? They can't possibly allow this," Harry offered. She shook her head.

"They support this! They think it will be a smart move on their part, to show that purebloods and muggle born witches and wizards can live in harmony," she explained, her voice full of loathing. The trio sat in silence for a moment, each reflecting on the situation at hand. Finally, Ron spoke up.

"I suppose marriage to him wouldn't be too bad…" he trailed off at Hermione's astounded stare.

"Pray tell," she snapped.

"Well, he did kind of risk his life to help our side by spying for us, and he is filthy rich…"

Hermione was already shaking her head. "Then YOU marry the git!" she exploded.

"Hermione, yelling is not going to help," Harry said, trying to placate the angry woman.

"Fine. I suppose you have a better idea?"

"Meet with him for lunch tomorrow. See what happens. Maybe you can talk him out of it, or something.'

"And if I can't?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. We managed to defeat Voldemort, and stayed reasonably intact," here, he fingered the stub that stood where his right index finger had once been, a reminder from that fateful battle. "We'll think of something though. We always do."

Noon came all to soon, and before she knew it, Hermione was standing outside the large café. She took a deep breath before opening the large doors. A young hostess greeted her almost immediately.

"Miss Granger? Mr. Malfoy is expecting you. Please, follow me." She didn't allow time for Hermione to reply before turning and taking off. Taken aback, Hermione followed her to a small corner table. She frowned as her eyes met those of the table's occupant.

"Granger."

"Malfoy," she snapped, sitting down in the chair that was positioned across from Draco, well aware of his gray eyes bearing into her. "What do you want with me?" Hermione spat out, wasting no time with small talk. Draco laughed lightly.

"Ah…yes…I suppose that you would want to know that first. It is really quite simple. I need to restore my family's good name, and I need an heir. You are Potter's best friend, and one of the most well-known and beloved witches. Not to mention the fact that you are one of the most powerful witches around."

"But you hate me!" she blurted out.

"And I thought you were the smart one. Obviously, you are not schooled on the foundation of most marriages. It is all about convenience, my dear. Not love." His face twisted into that smirk that she knew all to well.

"You…you…you BASTARD!" she cried out.

"I love you too, dear."

Willing back the tears that threatened to fall, she abruptly stood up.

"Remember Granger… One week!" he called as she stormed out, oblivious to the stares of the other diners that followed her to the door. She immediately apparated to the Burrow, the one place that she knew she would find solace from the harsh reality of the situation.

As she did the day before, she rushed into the home, finding Ron and Harry, along with Ginny. Her friends looked at her expectantly.

"What happened?" Ron asked, though he knew the answer wasn't good, judging from the remnants of tears staining her face.

"I don't know what to do…God, I just don't know!" she cried, her distraught obvious.

"I talked to the ministry. They can't help," Harry said.

"I know. So what can I do to get out of this?" Harry, Ron, and Ginny exchanged glances.

"Hermione, unless you marry another wizard and can prove you were planning to marry him before the marriage request was made, there is nothing you can do. Legally, at least," explained Ron. Hermione looked at both of her friends, eyes moving from one to another. Harry could see what his friend was planning.

"Hermione, please don't even ask us."

"Please! You wouldn't have to stay married for a long time, just a couple of months."

"No."

Hermione looked at her friends, shocked. "Please! Can you at least help me leave the country then? I will do anything! Anything!"

"Hermione, you need to do this. There is nothing that can be done. You know Harry and Ron can't marry you. Don't try to force them. That makes you just as bad as Malfoy," Ginny tried to tell Hermione.

"We just want to live our lives normally now, as law abiding people. We can't help you break the law 'Mione, we'd lose everything," Harry added.

"But we did all of this before Voldemort! What has changed so much between then and now that makes you so reluctant to do it again?"

"Hermione, we broke laws to save the our world and the people in it. This is a different matter," Harry said calmly.

"Like hell it is! This is MY life that is being ruined. What is so different about saving my life? Did I not save yours countless times?"

Harry remained silent. "It won't be so awful. Lots of marriages are arranged, and often the people fall in love," Ron pointed out.

"But I don't love him! I don't even like him! I can't do this. They want me to drop my life to become his wife. Do you not understand this? Please, oh God, please, help." At that moment she broke down. Sinking to her knees, she let the tears flow freely down her cheeks.

The truth had finally sunk in; they simply didn't care. They couldn't find enough compassion to do anything but slap her on the back and wish her luck in a loveless, forced marriage. Her whole friendship, at that point in time, seemed to her a lie. Had they ever loved her? Had they ever felt the bond that she had felt with them? Or had she simply been the 'brains' of the group, nothing more, nothing less. Still, whatever they had once felt, or, rather, had not felt, no longer mattered now. What mattered was the fact that this was how it was going to end; a simple law would do what a liege of evil never could manage: the demise of the 'Golden Trio'.

"Hermione, we are so sorry…" Ron whispered.

"Please, try to understand," said Ginny. Gathering the little strength that she still possessed, Hermione pulled herself off the floor.

"So much for friendship. I neither want to see nor hear from any of you again," she spat. She turned, ignoring the protests that followed her out the door.

A month later, on what was understandably one of the worse days of her life, she married Draco Malfoy. Time and time again, those who she had been close too had tried to reason with her, trying to make her see that they had to do what they did. But she had ignored their efforts, snapping at and threatening to curse anyone who dared venture near her.

Perhaps, it was an understanding of life that far surpassed Hermione's preconceived notions that led her friends to choose the paths they did. After all, it was true that she had always held a more modern view of life than her friends did. This, of course, might have been the result of her upbringing. She had been raised to believe in Muggle traditions, while Ron and Ginny had learned of the ways of the Wizarding world. Harry had taken quickly to the ideals of the latter, and thus, now took the view of a Wizard. Be that what it may, Hermione had not allowed herself to think of any reasons that her former friends might have allowed themselves to, in her mind, abandon her.

After only a month of marriage, she had finally gotten pregnant. She had the child ten months after marriage. However, much to her dismay, the child was a girl. So, again she had been forced to lie in the bed of her husband, and had found herself once more with child a few months later. A year after her daughter's birth, she had given birth to a son.

She seldom saw Draco, for he spent hours at work. She, of course, could not work, for 'Malfoy women,' as Draco once put it, 'did not work.' She spent long hours alone, taking comfort in her children, whom, despite the hatred and force that had surrounded their birth, she had come to love, the large library in the manor, and the horses that they kept.

So focused was she, reminiscing about the past, that she barely noticed when the servant placed a steaming plate before her, nor did she remember eating the dish. After what seemed like eternity, she raised her head and looked at her husband.

"Draco, I am not feeling so well. I believe that you have our guests taken care of, so if it is okay with them, I believe that I would like to retire for the night," she announced, pasting a false smile on her face.

"Of course, my dear."

"Good bye Mr. and Mrs. Potter, Mr. Weasley. It was a pleasure seeing you again. I wish you all the very best in your future endeavors," she forced herself to say.

"You too, Hermione," said Ginny. With one last false smile, Hermione left the room. She quickly fled to her bedroom, slipping on a pair of muggle jeans and a top, and grabbing her wand. From there she went outside, heading towards the stables.

"What have you done to her?" Ron growled at Draco as soon as Hermione had left.

"I married her, Mr. Weasley. I married her and provided for her as best I could under the circumstances."

"What circumstances?" Ron's voice was steadily rising. Ginny put a hand on his arm.

"Ron, Please…"

"It's perfectly all right, Mrs. Potter." Draco met the angry man's eyes. "Under the circumstances that she was married to someone she hated, and her friends had not done anything to help her escape that fate."

"That's not true!" Ron protested weakly. Harry remained silent.

"Really, is that so? Harry, you haven't said a thing about it. Is it because you know that you didn't do anything to help her?" Harry closed his eyes, as though he were trying to escape the memories of that day.

"I…" he started.

"I what? Couldn't help her? Or are you perhaps telling me that she didn't ask for help, that she didn't come to your homes the day she learned of her fate.

_The burrow door opened and Hermione stumbled in, her hair flying wildly. Harry, Ron, and Ginny looked up in surprise._

"_Hermione?" _

"_Oh god, you have to help me. He wants me to marry him! They are going to force me to marry Malfoy!"_

"And that she didn't beg you to save her from this fate?"

_"Please, Ron, Harry, you must help me get out of it! They have given me a week to willingly come and accept before they force me to. Please, I either need to be married to someone within a week, or you need to help me disappear."_

"And you didn't refuse her, you didn't tell her that you were unwilling to help, that you had to keep your best interests in mind as well?"

_"Hermione, we can't."_

"_Ron is right. We can't drop our lives Hermione! We can't just sneak you out. They would know we helped you. We have worked to hard to lose everything. You know that."_

"_Yeah. We are so sorry. You cannot possibly know. We discussed this, all of us, last night, after you left. It can't be. It just can't happen like this. It is quite likely that they will make you unable to annul any marriage you enter into in hopes of escaping marrying Malfoy. They'd make it impossible to leave Ron or Harry, and you'd be stuck in the marriage forever. It won't be so awful, though. Marrying Malfoy, that is. I mean, he did help us defeat You-Know-Who, and he isn't bad looking," added Ginny. _

"_Please…please don't do this!" Tears streamed down her pale face, desperation in her voice. _

"_Hermione…" _

"_Forget it. Forget everything! Just…contact me if you find yourselves to suddenly be with a heart!" _

"So you did care for her, you say. So how come she is miserable? How come she harbors such a fierce hatred for you? How come…"

"SHUT UP!" Harry screamed, losing his placid demeanor. His green eyes blazed in anger as Ginny tried in vein to calm him down.

"You disgust me. You are damned lucky that I just happen to owe the minister of magic some favors and he happens to be a huge fan of your team, or else you would never have acquired my funding. Now I think you have overstayed you welcome. Please, leave my home. Someone will show you to the door."

Behind Malfoy manor there sits a barn. The barn itself is not uncommon; many influential wizarding families have stables built on their property. The stables usually house such creatures as hippogriffs, centaurs, and, though those who possess them would never admit it, dragons. The owners never dare to venture near to these creatures, for lest they harm themselves in anyway. These creatures are kept simply as a testimony to their immense power and wealth, meant to show all of those around them that not even the most powerful animal can frighten them.

What makes the barns behind Malfoy Manor so different is the fact that they house none of these strange magical beasts. Instead, they hold about a dozen common horses. What makes it even stranger is the fact that a mere muggle was put in charge of all that goes on in the stables and the animals that reside there.

The stables were the one place where Hermione could find constant comfort. Among the graceful animals, surrounded by their unique scent, she felt at peace. She had acquired the horses shortly after marrying Draco, convincing her husband that if he just allowed her this one thing, she would not argue with him about not being allowed to work.

Now, as she had done so many times before, she visited the horses after a stressful day, or, as it so happened that night, after a meeting she wished desperately she had never had. She walked into the dark barn, the soft glow of her wand the only source of light, and was greeted with the soft sounds of the night. The occasional nicker, shuffle of shavings, and pawing of hooves was all that could be heard, and those mundane sounds offered her all the comfort she needed.

She walked over to the stall of one of her favorite horses, a tall bay gelding. The stall door creaked open and she slipped inside, wrapping her arms around his powerful neck and nestling her face into his mane, letting her tears fall once more.

In the first few months of her marriage, Hermione had come here many times, hoping that the fates would finally smile down upon her, and that her knight in shining armor would come and rescue her. Perhaps this fantasy was why she had bought the horses in the first place. She couldn't quite remember. But regardless of the reason, she was glad she had them. They had kept her company throughout the years, for her knight had never come.

In fairy tales, true love conquers all. Hermione would only know this from the stories that were told in books. She would never know how it felt to be kissed by her true love, or how it would feel to melt willingly into a lovers embrace. She would never know how it felt to smile at the man you love, and have him smile back, eyes shining with love. Her life was no fairy tale, and she knew it never would be. Fate, that cruel opponent of love and happiness, had dictated that her life be a meaningless stream of parties and dinners, controlled by a husband she could never love.

Perhaps, it was just as well, for some fairy tales were never meant to come true.

* * *

**A/N: Meh, not my best work, to be sure. Once again, I stress that this was written almost two years ago. I plead youth as my defense. I have tried to clean it up as best I can, and I hope it was somewhat enjoyable.**

**Regardless, please, leave a review. I am very thick skinned, and I can handle it all. Really. I can. Promise.**

**Emily**


End file.
